Karla Kassebaum

Yesterday morning I sat in a coffee shop to do some work and savor a dark-roasted coffee. It wasn’t long before mothers with young children arrived in packs, pushing tables together and doing their best to maintain crowd control.

Children hopped from table to table to find the best one and the most comfortable seat — even though each table had the same chairs. One little boy insisted the 2-person table he chose was the best, no matter how much his mother tried to persuade him the 4-person table next to them would fit the three of them better. That was until they sat down, the mother took off her coat, and got situated. Then at that very moment, the little boy hopped up and moved to a chair at the 4-person table announcing, “I’m sitting over here!”

I chuckled. I remembered when my daughter was that little. I found myself smiling at the mothers, amused by this little boy, and at the same time touched by the excitement and adventure of the other little ones in the coffee shop.

My quiet haven for working turned into a romping room full of chatter and disgruntled children from time to time, but I didn’t mind. I think God gifted mothers in that way–we can tune out the noise to accomplish some things, but yet at the same time be relentlessly in tune with the noise to know when to pay closer attention. Right?

It was my few moments of not being on Mom Patrol so I was in my little corner of solitude in spite of the commotion. Since these young ones weren’t my responsibility, I tuned out the noise. But not before I was reminded of the camaraderie mothers need.

There is something about walking alongside another woman who’s either in the same season of life, or has just moved into the next. It’s refreshing, hopeful, engaging, and let’s face it … it’s downright enjoyable to actually have an adult conversation!

Most of the moms who arrived, came with a friend. While one mother went to place her order, the other occupied the children. It was simple, yet understood teamwork 

We need other women around us – no matter what season of life we are in. There are also times we need our solitude, even if it’s small increments of time where we can set down our Mom Patrol duty and just be.

So what do you need today? Pick up the phone and call a friend. Or if you need to, retreat to the bathroom if that’s the only solitude available. It’s okay — you’ll know when to tune back in … a two-year-old’s silence is always a good clue.

Happy New Year! We had a wonderful two-week Christmas break — no homeschooling, slept in, went sledding, attended holiday festivities and parties, ate foods we don’t normally eat, stayed up late, built snowmen, and played endless games. I’m all for spontaneity, adventure, and new things … but there is a time when the routine brings refreshment. This week would be one of those times.

After meals of leftovers, appetizers, and endless munching, today I cooked. Now I didn’t think that was such a major feat, until the aroma floated from the oven to my daughter’s bedroom.

“Mom, what are you cooking?” she said.

“A turkey and wild rice.”

“Really? Right now? It’s in the oven? You promise that’s what’s for dinner?”

As soon as I said ‘yes,’ she squealed in delight just like when she opened her karaoke machine at Christmas. I didn’t realize a home-cooked meal rated up there so high. Then it hit me … we’re back to routine and I’m cooking nightly again.

So as I sit here tonight with my candles lit, my door shut, and my soft instrumental music strumming in the background, I’m renewed, refreshed … and grateful to be back to my evening writing time too.

There sure is something wonderful about routines — especially after a break. Maybe it’s that we go back to our daily life refreshed and what we saw with sunken eyes and dark circles two weeks ago as drudgery or obstacles, today is viewed with fresh insight and smells like a new outlook.

Whatever it is — enjoy the moment!

Tonight, I sat trying to think about what magnificent parenting factoid to blog about, but my mind was just … blank. I got nothing.

Ever had one of those days? For me, it’s usually because of what transpired during the day that my brain becomes mush by the end of the day. Things like, the laundry’s final resting place still remains on the furniture, the to-do list grows longer rather than shorter, dinner didn’t get planned … again, and to top it off the dog gallivants in from the backyard … grimy. Not just a little dirty, but with yuck encrusted fur. The sort of grim that only can be removed from severe soaking and scrubbing.

Then add in our homeschooling day, along with the normal everyday events in the life of a teenager daughter, and you’ve got liveliness that gushes like a room full of two-year-olds. Now don’t get me wrong, I love parenting a teenager.  It’s a kick and then some. But there are days where the effort it takes to even out the amount of hormones flying around the house consumes all my creative juices.

So tonight … my mind is blank.

On days like today, I kick back and relax. The dog crashes in the kennel, the family sleeps soundly, while I barricade myself in my little relaxation oasis. Candles flicker, warm fuzzy blankets surround me, soothing music plays, and I lie back in my comfy chair and just breathe while I sip tea infused with all sorts of relaxation herbs. It’s my little taste of heaven.

As the stresses and demands of my day begin to melt, my shoulders relax, my muscles loosen, my eye lids get heavy, and a few yawns squeak out. Slowly, I refuel.

We know the journey of a parent is a wild adventure. Some days our tendency is to fight it. But I’ve found it’s best to just embrace life as it comes and kick back to relax after the day is done. After all, tomorrow we start again.

Last Friday night I had plans. Make dinner, hug and kiss hubby and daughter goodbye as they head to a concert, spend the evening writing in quietness. Simple. It wasn’t.

Late in the day, I called tech support to fix my printer thinking it’d be a quick fix. Fifteen minutes passed, then thirty … no dinner made, concert goodbye getting closer, no solution to printer problems.

I handed sticky notes to my family:

“Can you make dinner?”

“Don’t forget earplugs.”

“Almost an hour and STILL no progress!”

“Have fun.”

My family left for the concert. I sat stuck on the phone.

“Will this take very much longer?” I said looking at the clock anxiously bouncing my leg.

Thirty more minutes passed, then sixty. I reminded myself that I could never be a tech support person–I would pull out my hair. A mound of patience is needed for that job! Clearly I don’t have that much patience.

After 2 1/2 hours, my printer printed and I hung up. Starved, I made myself dinner. Once I finally reached my office again, I lit my candles and sat down to write. After a mere ten minutes of my coveted quietness, the phone rang.

“Mom. They don’t take debit cards and that is all Dad has with him.”

“What? You mean the concert is done already?” My mind immediately went to why the artist couldn’t have sang longer.

“I want to buy a T-shirt and CD, but they only take checks or cash.”

“What are you asking me honey?” I said knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.

“Can you bring the checkbook to us? I really, really want her to sign them.”

All I could think of was the 20 minute drive to the concert and the measly 10 minutes I got.

“Mom? Are you there?”

Just breathe slowly … inhale.

“Mom?”

Exhale.

“Yes, I will come down. I’ll leave now.”

Did I just say yes?

As I drove, I argued with myself.

Selfish Me: Nothing went as planned tonight.

Caring Me: Part of being a parent means learning it isn’t about me.

Selfish Me: Yeah, but I needed my writing time. I’m on a deadline!

Caring Me: What about the concerts you went to as a teen. You didn’t get autographs. She has that chance tonight.

Caring Me won. I couldn’t deprive my daughter of an once-in-a-lifetime souvenir. On the ride home, I told her how thrilled I was she got her autograph and picture taken with the artist. I meant it.

The next day, I got my quietness time while my hubby and daughter did grocery shopping errands for me. It’s what being a family is all about–we help each other out!

Independence. It’s something all kids long to exert.

At two, my daughter got into my eyeshadow. She “knew” what to do even though she looked like she had two black eyes. I did what any parent would do — grabbed my camera and took a picture!

At four, she insisted on getting her bike unstuck all by herself. Never mind that she straddled the gutter with her training wheels. I was only allowed to watch as she peddled faster and faster, to no avail, to get the bike moving. I silently smiled.

At eight, she boasted how much older she was than the kindergartners we taught Sunday School to each week. I chuckled to myself when she told the kindergartners, “When I was little …” 

At eleven, middle school began and she didn’t need us to walk her to the bus stop anymore (although we were “allowed” to come if we brought the dog with us). I brought the dog as often as possible.

Now at thirteen, it’s all about going alone to the mall with her friends. As I write this, I’m sitting here at the mall’s food court while my daughter and her friend exert their independence. I allow thirty minute increments of this freedom before they have to check in with me again for the next round. I show my gratitude when they return on time.

As I reminisce, I remember how much I’ve enjoyed every stage of her growth. With each new phase, come new experiences and challenges. 

Things are different now — I’m not allowed to bring a camera to the mall for pictures and I got the please-don’t-embarrass-me-look when I gave her hand an I-love-you-squeeze in church today. (I sometimes forget what it’s like to be thirteen.) That’s okay. Her budding independence is a joy and an absolute kick! Sure, as with every phase, it carries it’s share of challenges. But now I sit and listen as she shares her passions and dreams with me. I beam when she makes a responsible choice. I’m touched when she gives me something she’s written that blesses my heart. I proudly watch her teach the kindergartners each Sunday morning — by herself — while my husband and I stand in the backdrop to offer help when she needs it.

Growth and independence — two beautiful things. As parents, we need to embrace it in our children. If we channel it in the right direction, there will be nothing our children cannot successfully do!

As parents our roles are numerous. One important role is being our child’s ultimate cheerleader.

I recently caught the tail end of a documentary of a famous recording artist. Immediately, the support and encouragement of the mother shined. When others discredited the talent of the young aspiring artist, the mother beamed proudly with firm belief, and forever nudged her child to press on.

As the documentary lingered in my mind, I couldn’t help but evaluate my own abilities to be my daughter’s cheerleader. At times, I succeed. Other times, I miss vital opportunities.

What is an opportunity? It’s a pause or a moment in time where we are given an opening. In being our child’s cheerleader, it’s an opening to spur him or her on to greatness. The adventure comes in not knowing what the final greatness is to be, but looking for glimpses or sparks just waiting to be further ignited.

A cheerleader isn’t reserved for the athletic department. A cheerleading parent finds the beauty in a child’s first piano piece, the vulnerability in a child’s poem, the tender heart of a helpful child, or the strength in a child’s individuality.

Life is full of openings to encourage our children. Rather than see missed opportunities behind us, let’s capture each possibility that skips our way.

“Don’t wait for extraordinary opportunities. Seize common occasions and make them great.” — Orison Swett Marden

Today my daughter and I spent the afternoon being creative.We went to a pottery studio in Fruita, Colorado called “Stroke of Genius.” We recently discovered this place and being the artsy crafty types, we had to check it out. We were not disappointed. The owner, Anne, is a gem of a lady — such a delight, and the selection was extensive and unique. We had a fantastic time!

My daughter painted a plate shaped like a slice of pizza, while I tackled a glazing technique on a toothbrush holder. As my daughter painted her crust, Anne handed me a rust-colored bottle of glaze.

“Is this the green color?” I asked.

“Yes. It will be once it’s fired. This doesn’t contain any dyes, so the color you see isn’t what it will be. It’s what is inside that creates the beautiful green color once it’s fired.” Anne replied.

I painted on the rust glaze, but it looked more like a terra-cotta lump rather than a one-of-a-kind iridescent green toothbrush holder. I ignored what it looked like on the outside, and tried to imagine how the chunks I intentionally placed would melt down the sides when fired, to create the beautiful array of colors and hues.

“I thought you were using the green color, Mom?” my daughter said unimpressed by my terra-cotta container.

“I am. She said it’s what is inside that creates the color, so it won’t show up until fired.”

As we painted, glazed, and contemplated how incredible our pottery would look in the end, I couldn’t get out of my mind what Anne said, “It’s what is inside that creates the beautiful color …”

It’s what is inside that matters … an important truth that flows into every part of our lives. We often make sure we present ourselves in the right light, however it isn’t how great we look but what comes from our heart that counts. Life isn’t about our children being perfect performers, but more about whether we are helping them become all that God designed them to be.

As parents, it’s easy for us to look only at today rather than beyond the immediate picture. Just like my toothbrush holder, the colors we instill in our children won’t fully shine until they mature and endure a bit of fire along the way.

Let’s teach our children today what will help them glisten in the future. It’s the end result that matters!

Being a good parent is hard. No one likes to be the bad guy, but let’s face it — to be a good parent, there are times our children will NOT like our decisions.  

One of the hardest things about parenting is the immediate response and quick judgment calls we have to make. There is no way to preplan what will transpire from one day to the next. Without notice, we are faced with a situation that we aren’t prepared for, and suddenly we have to make a parental decision. Of course we all want to make the RIGHT one!

I often say that parenting isn’t a science or formula, although how convenient if it was … but then we’d have little robots running around and not children with their own unique abilities and talents. I have found that it is harder to retrain us parents than retrain our children. Children pick up on things quickly. We are slower to change or create new habits.

Meanwhile our children are little masterminds. They know our weak points. They know when we are stressed, tired, or juggling too many things and when we’re more apt to give in. They know how to be specific when they want to — “You didn’t say right NOW, you just asked ‘could you?’ ” They know in what circumstances they have a better chance of getting us to say ‘yes.’ They are geniuses!

So how do we as parents help ourselves make the better decision rather than give our children a reactive response? Here are three brief tips:

1. Breathe. Take a moment to count to 10 … okay in some instances 20. We tell our kids to do this, but I’ve found giving myself such a brief timeout has its benefits as well. When I speak without doing a fast regroup, I tend to be more of an extremist in my responses. This is never helpful in making the right decision.
2. Leave emotions outside. Know that you can vent your emotional reactions later when not in your child’s presence. This is especially true for tween to teenagers. Their hormones are all over the board and they need us parents to be the stable, unwavering adult. The best response we can give our tween/teen is one that is not emotionally charged. Doing this will help lessen the drama in the midst of the situation. If you are like me, this means you may need to go back to #1 above to accomplish this.
3. Defer the decision. In the midst of a situation where you feel a quick response is necessary, it’s okay to say, “We will discuss what we need to do about this and get back with you in a little bit.” Discuss the situation away from the children. Then let them know your decision when you have arrived at one.

We won’t be perfect at these steps in every situation. If you are, I applaud you — share your secret! But for the rest of us, we have to remember this is a process of learning. When we mess up, it’s okay to apologize to our children and let them know where we erred. That is great role modeling!

Taking time out before we respond, act, or speak, doesn’t show weakness or a lack of control. Instead, it shows the opposite. We are taking control of the situation, speaking calmly when ready, and removing the chance for being swayed by stress. Our children will notice how we respond. It may not stick when they are young, but guarantee they will remember our calm responses when they too become parents themselves.

I don’t live my life with regrets, but there are times I can look back and recognize if I had all the information then that I do now, I would have felt or acted differently. For example, I remember when the Internet was in its infancy and hearing about the “information highway.” I thought, whatever would someone do with that?! Hmmm. I feel differently now — to have information at my fingertips without leaving my home is invaluable.

This looking back applies to parenting situations too — if I knew then what I know now, some situations could have gone smoother. So for grins, I’ve compiled a brief list of what I wish I would have known 13 years ago. See if you can relate …

1. That modeling a clean bedroom would help teach my daughter the importance of cleaning her own bedroom.
2. That counting to 10 has its benefits for me too.
3. That understanding learning styles brings clarity to many situations.
4. That being a catering service to my child wouldn’t be the best choice.
5. That I learn more by listening, than talking.
6. That I would fail at times in my parenting skills, but my daughter is forgiving when I make it right.
7. That being human, not perfect is what matters most.

Knowledge is powerful. May we use the knowledge we gain, not to live in regret but to propel us forward to change the future!

Recently our family escaped out of town for the weekend to let loose at a water park. What a blast! We had not a care in the world, except to decide which ride to do next. We flipped on tubes, careened down slides, sloshed through tunnels, and trudged up hills carrying large tubes just to go down and do it all again. With how much fun the water park provided, there was something even better that stuck with me — our long conversations we had over the weekend. Priceless! We came back from that weekend with new plans to take more frequent mini-weekend trips as a family.

Typically society’s pace doesn’t afford us large amounts of leisure time to catch up with our family, or hear our children’s passions and interests. Instead, we flip over pages of to-do lists, careen down our daily schedules, slosh through life’s demands, and trudge up hills carrying our over-commitment only to wake up the next day and do it all over again. We don’t plan to spend our time that way, but life crowds in and before we know it, pressures dictate our schedules.

As I was reflecting on our weekend yesterday, I ran across a New York Times articles, Breakfast Can Wait. The Day’s First Stop is Online. It addressed the changing times of text messages, cell phones, social networking and email and how such lures interfere with family time and communication.

I couldn’t get the article out of my mind. Maybe it bothered me so much because our treasured weekend was fresh on mind. Or perhaps it reminded me of how I can be pulled away from my own family to check or write a few emails. Whichever the case, I’ve found myself re-reading the article and reflecting on what lures me away from my top priorities.

There is no doubt — family weekend escapes are invaluable. But more importantly, how do we spend our time during the week? It’s in our daily routine that our priorities are tested. So are we ready to let loose? It may not be at a water park, but let’s decide what can wait and what is first. Then have some great family time!